


Pico The Wingman

by Anonymous



Category: Friday Night Funkin' (Video Game)
Genre: :)))))), Denial of Feelings, Don't Examine This Too Closely, F/M, Friendship/Love, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Temporarily Unrequited Love, Unrequited Love, Why Did I Write This?, Wingman Pico, goes from spitting bullets to spitting bars
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-13 13:01:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29402370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Pico doesn’t have a lot of regret in his pocket. He’s learnt to let go of them once he was slapped in the face with a reality check, but few still stick.One of them happen to be agreeing to Boyfriend’s little idea of being a wingman.
Relationships: Boyfriend (Friday Night Funkin’) & Pico (Pico’s School), Boyfriend/Girlfriend (Friday Night Funkin’), Pico (Pico's School)/Boyfriend (Friday Night Funkin'), Pico (Pico’s School)/Boyfriend (Friday Night Funkin’), ship tags show yourselves
Comments: 7
Kudos: 59
Collections: Anonymous





	Pico The Wingman

**Author's Note:**

> I didn’t realise how weighted (is that the right word to use) the gist of this fic is until midway through the chapter pfff — I was planning it to be a crack fic consisting of pico being an exhausted wingman. but welp! here we go I guess.
> 
> it’s still crack-ish. I can’t write FNF seriously to save my life. :,)
> 
> I’m sorry about the ooc and everything else you’re about to see, I haven’t written or published anything in awhile — sorry in advance for my rusty writing.
> 
> hope you enjoy anyway ~

The polluted air was something that Pico was accustomed to, it belonged to the city with all the noise of cars passing by and traffic down below. People entering and exiting buildings to head to their destinations, some walking mindlessly, and some heading home. All of which have different lives going for them.

Their lives were most-likely boring and repetitive, but a blessing compared to what others had to deal with. Pico resisted an eye roll as he flipped his gun in hand, something that's become normal to bring with him. A necessity. It's his equivalent of a purse or a limb.

Every time he looks at it is a faint memory of his young, terrifying, and bloody days. But, at the end of it, was satisfaction. _Cassandra deserved to rot in hell_. Even if she’s probably digging it down there, knowing her edgy tendencies.

Sometimes Pico can't believe that he attracts the weird ones, but he was lucky she had liked him otherwise he'd be dead by now. Biased opinions sure had a way of bringing a plan to shame, thus being its downfall. Pico made sure of that.

He had a violent life ever since that day. But that's fine, it wasn't okay per say but it was fine. At least he lived in the end, picturing himself as some sort of champion. As long as he knew how to survive and kick ass, things will turn out to be worth the pain.

The sound of a door creaking open from behind made him whip his head around, furrowed brows as he zeroed on the trespasser. He was about to take his leave through his usual mental exit out the area until he recognised a familiar idiot's blue quiff of hair and mundane yet disheveled appearance, the disappointment came naturally.

 _Him again_? Pico wondered what ruckus this headache wanted to bring with him today. He didn’t have that girl with him that sat on the speakers all the time and Pico noticed that they always follow one another, so he wondered why he was alone this time around. Breakup? No. That wouldn’t be right.

Pico lifted his hand away from where he kept his gun holstered, this blue asshole couldn't swing a fist even if he tried. The most he could swing was his microphone but that's a pathetic move. Pico had no worries in picking a fight with him. Plus, he had a loaded gun that he’s skilled in using.

"What do you want this time?" Pico turned away from the city down below, swinging his legs around so he could keep his full attention on — What the hell was this guy's name again? He told him years ago, right? Oh, whatever. He was the boyfriend to that chick on the stereo, he'll be dubbed _Boyfriend_ in Pico's mind for the time being. "A rematch? If so, I've got no time for you and your silly notes. I’m busy.”

Boyfriend raised his hands and waved them frantically. "Bdee bop skidada," Boyfriend sighed. He scratched his cheek lightly, sheepish as he avoided eye contact. Pico slowly blinked at him, he tried to process what galactic words have been spoken to him and translate it to English. "Be bopi po."

` _I didn't come here for that_ ` Pico's mind supplied a translation. ` _I need help_. `

Pico’s brows furrowed. He put his hand on his chest before gesturing to Boyfriend. “You expect me to help you _.”_ He slowly drawled, passive derision evident in his tone.

Pico's seen some strange to horrible things, he wonders where Boyfriend's flip-flop altering views on their quote-unquote ‘acquaintanceship’ lands on the scale. It's very low on the bar considering some things, but his point still stands. One time they're arguing, the next they're rapping, and then before they know it, they're talking like no tension was ever between them. _What is going on._

To add on to it, Boyfriend nodded with such vigour that it seemed genuine. A nonverbal affirmation with no ill intent from what he can see. It weirded Pico out.

He leaned back with a scrunched up face. "What, you want me to help you write some stupid verse? Don't you have enough braincells in you to make a rhyme or have you written them away?” Ridiculous. "Piss off." He waved him off dismissively, he had better things to do than listen to some boy beep boop about favours that can end up terribly.

"De didi." Pico did not like how he rushed forward with his hands clasped together, looking at him with this feel of vulnerability and plea. Picture puppy dog eyes, but sadder and more pitiful than adorable. All he could do to reply to it was narrow his eyes. "Do dodo bapi bobaba," Boyfriend briefly paused before adding, "Pe do pe."

` _No wait_. `

` _I_ _need another person's insight_ , `

` _It's about someone._ `

Someone.

A slow, unimpressed, deadpanned blink as every suspicion in Pico's body depleted in an instant, replaced with blatant disdain. Every part slumped, disbelieved by Boyfriend's obvious hint in words that was also emphasised in how he presented himself now.

It’s pretty obvious who this someone is.

While his intuition is usually right most of the time, Pico hoped he was wrong because despite the many paths the conversation could go, they all pointed south. Pico leaned forward, propped a knee up, and put his chin on his hand with a bored expression. 

"Is it about your girlfriend." He deadpanned, it was less of a question and more a statement.

As if Boyfriend's face couldn't get any redder. "Beep." ` _Yeah_. `

Knew it. Goddamn it all. “Why are you asking _me_ about your girlfriend?" Pico tilted his head, brows furrowed as he snorted. A confused ghost of a dwindling unbelieving smile. “The most I know about her is that she’s the daughter of two celebrities who used to be on the radio all the time.” He also knew her back then because he ran into her a few times during her parents’ concerts, but he’s not about to disclose everything.

Why would Boyfriend ask about his own girlfriend to another guy? Specifically, the one who has no idea if their little acquaintance is bad or good and had been used as a stepping stone to look good in front of his girl. The conversation prior to their rap battle was very brief but awkward enough that Pico participated as an act of pity.

It was a good round. Pico sang whatever random song he could make up on the spot and Boyfriend, well, he tried to follow. Was he good at following up? Honestly, he was. It wasn’t a surprise considering that he was probably the most musically inclined person Pico’s met. Pico might even say they both had fun, but that’s only to himself because if he said it to Boyfriend he’d never hear the end of it.

Do you think he wants to listen to Boyfriend _beski dapa bo pe_ over and over again because Pico said he did a sick job at a ‘duet’? No, no he doesn’t.

Boyfriend fiddled with his thumbs, he averted his eyes upwards in thought. His bold and cocky self faltered beneath something silly and easy as asking something about his own girlfriend, Pico wondered why he can’t just ask himself. Is it that hard to talk to — damn it, Pico realises that he might be bad at catching names. He’ll call the girlfriend, _Girlfriend_ , for the hell of it. It fits.

“Baba bo beskido aeopi popi popi po.” Boyfriend explained while gesturing stiffly with his hands, one hand scratched the back of his head. He put his hands together, pointing his fingertips towards Pico slightly as he tilted his head towards him with a pinched smile. “Aee doop ba dido be.”

` _I was wondering if you could help me at the sidelines. `_

 _` You’re the only person closest to my age that’s sane_. `

Flattering. “True.” 

The nervous look on Boyfriend’s face diminishes by a tad bit.

Boyfriend continues on about how he needs someone to help him with subtle social cues, elaborately romantic ones, and acts that he should do. What would seem more likeable.

He overshares the fact that all he’s been doing with Girlfriend is dragging her around to places in hopes of finding a beautiful spot to look under the stars, but no matter where he goes, there’s always someone in the way that he decides to go up against anyway because it’s a chance to show that he doesn’t back down.

It’s ridiculous, basically. But hey! It’s a better love story than Twilight and turned out better than whatever Cassandra had in mind, if it ever existed.

Pico hums in thought after the moment Boyfriend finishes, he’s looking at him expectantly with hope while shuffling from side to side. He continued quickly before Pico could reply, “Skdoo oo ae.” ` _We can rap as a decider_ ` He’s already pulling out his microphone, where the hell did he keep that?

Pico rolled his eyes with a bored expression as he raised his hand, “Nah. You’d stumble over and start rapping about sappy shit,” Cute thought. Sweet idea. But Pico is not about to be caught in the crossfire that was out of his zone. He was more of a _hit-low-and-shoot-em_ and less of a _love-hit-and-hug-em_ kinda guy. “What’s the catch?”

Somehow, Boyfriend’s void-like eyes seem to brighten. “Ee eo?” ` _You’ll do it?_ `

“What else do I have going for me right now?” Pico hops off and leans back, crossing his arms. He didn’t have much to do other than hitch a ride back home, he didn’t mind doing whatever crazy thing Boyfriend was about to do. As long as it doesn’t kill Pico, it should be fine. “It’s favours after favours with you. It’s only fair you give me something in return, so what’s the catch?”

A strange autotune-like chuckle escapes Boyfriend. “De deda,” ` _I don’t know,_ ` He averts his attention to the floor, irresolute. “Aai ea baei a.” ` _Something I suppose._ `

That is the lamest attempt at a cajole he’s ever ever heard. Even the Uber Boys can make a better one and that’s saying something. 

“Try again.” Pico shuffled in his place, amused. “And no, I’m not rapping with you. I would be wasting my energy on a lost cause and I would rather not do that. Put down the mic.” Boyfriend deflated as he hid away his microphone again, muttering about how it was worth an attempt. It wasn’t.

Boyfriend tapped his foot as he tried to come up with something. 

While Pico waited, he looked over his shoulder at the city below. It was at this moment that he realised that the sun was beginning to set, it was the strange time of day that would create a pink glow around the city streets. There would be a light misty fog and Pico would oversee photographers taking pictures, there would be few to many cars depending if it’s a work day or not.

It’s pretty, but damn it if it doesn’t keep him on his toes. It’s not safe if you travel in the parts Pico goes and should always, always take precaution. Have double thoughts? Take it into consideration. That’s what he learnt.

“Bo wooh,” Pico returned his attention back to Boyfriend and was immediately met with closeness that he couldn’t tolerate, Boyfriend’s face wasn’t inches away from his and they had a fair amount of distance but it sure felt like they were too close for comfort. He flinched and leaned back as an attempt to make room for any sort of divine intervention. “Pa lada da ee oee. Beeo aa do.”

` _I know_ , `

` _It can be like the old days with you helping me. Times when I would get ice cream for the both of us afterward_. `

Eugh.

Deep memories.

Instant distaste.

That churned something sour and sad in Pico and he did not want to investigate it. 

“Nope,” He automatically reached back for his gun. He didn’t grab it, his hand only hovered. He jumped away to create distance again. This time one he’s more comfortable with. “Maybe if you phrased that better I would’ve considered it. Also, do you know what a personal bubble is, dumbass? Christ. It’s like you popped a pimple but it’s your own brain.”

That made Boyfriend tilt his head, a huge imaginary question mark floated above his head. He rose a finger to his cheek, perplexed. “Bee bop?” ` _Huh_? `

And he didn’t even connect the dots, Pico’s scowl dampened. He attempted to squash the burning sensation in his chest, most-likely to be annoyance than anything else, but it continued to nag at him. “Whatever. Forget it,” He crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes. “What’s the deal? You just need tips, yeah? Tips for cheesy stuff?”

A nod.

Alright. Tips for love. The most stupidest thing, it’s an okay idea but Pico was not at all suited for it. He didn’t really want to become a wingman, but Boyfriend wasn’t one to forget paying back a favour. He was a good lad in that department. He was committed.

Girlfriend’s got a good catch, it’s almost envy material. Keyword, almost. Because Boyfriend is a nuisance and who would want that as a longtime partner? “How long is this gonna be going on for? I’m not about to shoulder your weak ass the whole relationship, otherwise I might as well be the one in it.” Boyfriend’s face soured instantly at his joke. Pico snickered and shrugged it off. “I’m just trashin’ ya nerd, but you do have to answer the question.”

Boyfriend huffed to shake off the sourness on his face before it shifted to a lighter one. “Bee podi edo bi.” ` _Just a week_ ` He softened, eyes gentle and expression fond. It twisted something in Pico’s gut, probably bile. “Adi do dopi oo aaiou.” ` _I want this week to be special for her_ ` The feeling keeps twisting. Pico’s convinced that it’s him cringing and nothing more.

Pico scoffs, “You’ve got it bad, son.” And _he’s_ the one in a relationship, what a disaster. “I’ll see what I can do. But you have to give me something in return, things like this don’t come easy from me.” Or at all. He was an amateur to anything like this.

“Ski aa ou do!” Boyfriend cheered a happy ` _Thank you!_ ` with a smile that brightened the dark area. He reached out a hand and before Pico could react, Boyfriend clamped both of his hands around one of Pico’s own. A delightful contented look as he shook their hands gently yet firmly, warm with meaningful thank yous. “Adida da pada ooe dideda.” ` _I’ll do whatever I can to repay you_ `.

A wave of revulsion went down Pico’s spine. He tugged his hand out of Boyfriend’s grasp and wiped it on his shirt, the warmth dimmed but the phantom touch stayed tingling. Boyfriend saw his recoil and sheepishly put his hands behind his back, an aloof smile on his face as he muttered an apology.

 _Now_ he says sorry. Okay, fine. Whatever. It’s better than no apologies. Pico scoffed, “You should really learn what personal space is.” He stuffed his hand into his pocket as an attempt to hotbox away the phantom touch. “Now that’s over and done with. Just come to me with whatever love inquiries you have.”

“Ba dobi,” ` _Okey_ , ` Boyfriend dipped his head down momentarily. He bounced in place, giddy. He was obviously happy that he managed to get someone like Pico on his side for a topic like relationships. “Ski aa ou do,” Boyfriend took one step back, keeping his eyes on his friend’s face. Genuine. “Pico.”

` _Thank you, Pico_ `

Pico. In complete. Decipherable. Understandable. English.

Well, to be fair, it was a name unless you infer to other languages. But it was a name in English, something Boyfriend can’t seem to master. 

..It shouldn’t have been as surprising as it was. Pico’s slightly wide surprised eyes scrunched shut, relaxing his face into something neutral.

Boyfriend waved goodbye as he fled back to the door leading down to the spiral staircase. Pico stood there for a moment until he realised that he couldn’t see anything anymore, his only light source being the pink glow from down below and the one lamp next to him.

He grumbled under his breath as he ran a hand down his face, cursing out Boyfriend and his idiocy. He could’ve grabbed a drink ages ago but no, he just had to show up and ask Pico for tips. Wait. Did he even ask what time they’ll be meeting?

Pico groaned, “Fucking.. hell.” He let out a long exasperated sigh. He walked over to lean over the rooftop, lips pursed as his mind wandered. He dipped his forehead low to settle on top of the concrete.

The horror of waiting everyday for Boyfriend’s return back here at a random time, the anticipation of seeing that door open with him running through with papers full of questions, the dread of having to chat about the most ridiculous cheesy scenarios like they’re high school boys.

At least Pico gets to have that part of his life back. He didn’t really have a sturdy and ordinary school life, didn’t have anyone gossiping about their love issues to him and vice-versa because he was too busy fighting. So that’s something. But still. The dread remains.

He didn’t even know what to do. He had no idea how any of this works.

He was a complete baby in the world of romance, the closest he’s ever had to love experience was when he was in a ‘serious’ — quoted because it was a playful tryout when they were naive. Boyfriend didn’t consider it as serious anyway, so neither would he — relationship with Boyfriend all those years ago. The other one was with Cassandra, but it was one-sided and will never, ever be reciprocated.

He thought of one solution; which was to, obviously, research about it. Open up the incognito window tab and start going ham with search history because there is no way in hell Pico is ever letting anyone witness him looking up ways on _how to kiss your crush, how to set up a date_ , whatever prepubescent kid looks up when they get a crush.

The other one, less reliable option but still up there; ask around.

He’d just have to ask strangers. Complete, utter, faceless strangers who he’ll make sure to never meet again. Maybe he’ll do it underneath a guise or something, maybe not. Maybe he’d resort to those Q&A websites and ask there then proceed to internally die, at least he’d be under an alias rather than himself. That’s the one pro he can get out of this.

Well. A week’s a week. Seven days. Pico knows that it’ll fly by before he knows it, so he’ll need to suck it up and pull through. As aggravating as it might be.

Oh, to be who he was before Boyfriend came by.

Pico shook his head. “I need ice-cream.” He mumbles. Maybe a brain freeze can get him to settle down.

He puts his brain to autopilot as he hops over the edge, manoeuvring around downwards to the alleyway. The stairs would’ve been less work, but it would be tiring and boring. Going down from the top his way was faster, plus he had good practice. He knew what he was doing.

He really did just become a wingman right then and there, huh?

Pico sighed as he walked towards the nearest ice-cream shop.

**Author's Note:**

> feedback is always appreciated! hope you enjoyed reading it :)


End file.
